


Late Night Secrets

by dsakitad



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, Halloween, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 02:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16525391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsakitad/pseuds/dsakitad
Summary: You have a crush on a certain Captain, but you know that he would never be able to accept you for who you are…not that he would ever know the truth. And you will be sure to keep it that way.





	Late Night Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @shitty-imagines-95‘s “Being that Thing that Goes Bump in the Night Writing Challenge"

Steve was pacing, back and forth, back and forth, in front of your house at 1:37 am. He didn’t care that he may look suspicious to your neighbors, too lost in his own thoughts.

The cool fall air was flirting with winter, just above freezing, frost coating every surface outside, sidewalks slick.

But Steve didn’t notice.

He had just gotten back from a mission that had taken its mental toll on him. Steve has seen countless indescribable horrors in his life and he didn’t think there was much that could shock him.

This last mission proved otherwise.

He was thankful that the kid, Peter, wasn’t able to go. This would have changed the ever happy kid’s outlook on life, leaving deep scars.

“I want to bleach my mind,” Peter would say.

The thought brought a ghost of a smile over Steve’s lips.

He had been fighting with himself. He really wanted to see you. It had already been three weeks and he knew that just being around you would calm his inner demons. At the same time, it was an ungodly hour and would you really be up for company?

A light switches on in the house before him and his breathing hitches. Could you actually be awake?

His phone vibrates in his jacket pocket and his heart skips a beat in hope that it was you.

Pulling out the Stark-tech, he flicks his wrist to turn on the screen and his smile widens when he sees your name on the screen.

Y/N: _Hey, just thinking about you. Heard from Nat that you got back and if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Glad you’re safe x y/n_

Steve felt warm.

If he had to pick one thing about you that he loved and valued over anything else, it would be your compassion. You were always looking for ways to help and take care of others. On weekends, you would volunteer at the VA. Wednesdays, you visited Deaf/Hard of Hearing classrooms and signed stories with the students. Fridays, you had dinner with the Avengers to listen to the more boisterous ones recount their escapades. But besides all of that, you made it clear to anyone and everyone that you were always available for whatever they may want or need. You understood that it wasn’t all sunshine and roses; that there was a darker side to everything they did. You could recognize the distant look in their eyes as they were trapped in memories of the past and were quick to respond and bring them back to the present.

It was one of the many reasons why he had a huge crush on you.

Only, you were adamant that you were not looking for a relationship.

You had said on more than one occasion that anyone would be lucky to have him as their significant other.

Steve at first, like a fool, thought that you would have included yourself in that. And when he approached the topic of making you his girl, panic overtook your expression, crushing Steve’s world.

Despite his embarrassment at your rejection, he knew that having you as a friend was substantially better than not having you in his life at all.

He didn’t realize that he had moved to your front door until he heard himself knocking softly on the cool wood.

He snaps his arm back to his side and he holds his breath in anxious anticipation. The chill of the night air seemed to have settled in his bones and he feels frozen to the spot.

He hears quite steps padding towards the doorway and he can hear your breath hitch when you lean against the door to look through the peephole and see him standing there. He hears you let out a quiet curse before hearing the metal of the deadbolt sliding and the twist of your doorknob followed by the squeak of a door hinge.

You throw open your front door and see Steve Rogers standing on the other side, posed in a wide stance with his hands stuffed into his pockets. You see with every exhale a puff of air swirl in the chilled night. His hair was mused, likely from his nervous habit of running his hands through it. He has the beginnings of a beard and you realize that he likely didn’t stop to clean up after his mission, coming straight to your home. One last sweep over him shows that he has no obvious injuries, but you see the tips of his ears and nose are a bright pink.

“Jesus, Steve! Come inside so we can get you warm,” you urge, reaching out to grab his wrist, and drag him into your warm house. You have to ignore the strong pulse that you feel in your grip and swallow back the thirst. You clench your jaw in an attempt to keep your fangs from falling and glance at Steve, telling yourself that he needs to be your priority. The thirst can wait.

Steve didn’t resist, easily following you into the warm home. You gently push him towards the couch where he collapses, feeling the weight of the week crushing him.

He doesn’t realize that he feels safe with you, making it okay for him to be vulnerable.

You rush out of the room towards your linen closet and grab an arm full of blankets for the half-frozen soldier.

Walking back into the room, you throw a blanket over his lap and tuck another one around his shoulders, cocooning him in warmth.

“How long were you outside?” you question, crouching down to take off his combat boots, treating him with care. “It’s freezing out there. You could have gotten sick!” You stand back up and bring his boots to your entryway. “You do realize that you aren’t invincible and that it’s dang near freezing, right?”

You turn back to the Captain and are pleased when you see the harsh pink fading to a healthy warmth over his face. Nodding, you move to the kitchen, shouting back to him, “Coffee or Cocoa?”

You hear him shuffling around in the blankets and you lean around the corner, shooting him a steely glare. “You, Mister, need to stay in those blankets until I say so. Do not make me tie you up.” You have to force yourself to keep a straight face when Steve flushes a deep red. “Now, Coffee or Cocoa?”

“Cocoa, please.”

You huff and roll your eyes, returning back to the kitchen.

You go through your cupboards and look for the kettle that you seldom use and let out a little triumphant cheer when you find it in the back of your pantry. You shuffle back to your sink and rinse out the inside quick before filling it up and setting it on the stove.

While you wait for the water to boil, your eyes flick to the dark colored glass bottle on your counter and you can feel your gums ache and your throat dry. It had been too long since you last fed and having Steve here wasn’t helping with the hunger.

Never in your entire existence has someone made your mouth water as much as the Super Soldier did…and it was concerning. You were alone in this world and had no one to go to for advice. But since meeting the soldier, you knew you would never be able to stay away, his scent like crack to an addict. It didn’t help that once you got to know the Brooklyn man that you realized you wanted to be his girl.

Steve Rogers was one in a million and it killed you that you could never be with him.

Because who would want to be with a blood-sucking vampire?

Your throat pulsates as you breathe in, his scent filling you to the brink with thirst…and lust.

Why did he have to pick tonight to come over unannounced?

You grab the hot cocoa powder from your cabinet and set it on the counter. You grip the ledge and close your eyes, debating whether or not you should just open up your bottle and drink. You could easily pass it off as wine and it would make this encounter significantly easier. At the same time, you risked Steve….asking questions about your drink.

But what were the chances of that?

Deciding that the need to drink outweighed the need to be careful, you pull out two coffee mugs and fill one with the essence of life.

The sweet aroma hits and you’re quick to take a deep drink from the cup, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the thick liquid trickles down your throat. Once it enters your system, the air feels lighter and you feel yourself relax, the effect of it instantaneous.

Just as you are caught up in relief, the kettle lets out a shrill whistle, startling you out of your stupor.

As you pour the hot water into the mug and add the cocoa powder, you call out to Steve, “Marshmallows or whipped cream?”

“Marshmallows of course! What kind of monster prefers whipped cream?”

You snort in reply and put the preferred topping on before gathering both mugs in your hands and head back to the living room where Steve was still wrapped up in your blankets.

The image makes you pause for a moment, realizing that you liked seeing him wrapped up and looking so….. ~~edible~~ comfortable in your space.

You shake your head to clear those thoughts, reminding yourself that he will never be yours.

Instead, you hand him his mug and take a seat in your recliner next to the couch and sip at your own drink.

An easy silence settles between the two of you as you both enjoy your treats.

Steve is the one to break the silence.

“What are you doing awake at 1:30 in the morning?”

You shrug and reply, “Wasn’t particularly tired.”  You sip at your drink and let out a low appreciative hum. “Plus, you never know when a super soldier might come knocking on your door.” You wink at him.

You’re slightly disappointed when he doesn’t blush.

You watch him. You watch as his shoulders move with every breath. You watch as his eyes move over you, switching between your hands and your deep red stained lips. You watch as his pink tongue peaks out between his lips, dampening them and then he swallows.

Your eyes meet blue and you faintly register the confusion in his.

“What?” You ask, a nervous giggle escaping you. Your gaze flicks down to the liquid in your cup and then back to him. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and you give Steve a small smile, silently pleading that he doesn’t ask the question.

“What are you drinking?”

You look down at your mug again, swirling it in your hands, releasing the sweet fragrance in the air. You look back up at Steve and blink slowly. You breathe slowly, intentionally, and gulp, hoping to soothe your suddenly dry, tight throat. You glance back down at your drink and narrow your eyes and bring the mug to your lips for a deep drink.

When you pull back, you feel a drop escape your lips, trailing down, but before it got too far, you capture it on your finger.

Your eyes flick to Steve’s and you see his blue eyes darken with lust, fixated on your finger. You smirk, bringing the finger to your mouth and wrap your lips around it and suck off the blood. You peek at Steve through your eyes lashes and are pleased to see you have his undivided attention. You release your finger with an audible “pop” and give him a seductive smile.

“Thurston Wolfe - 2013 Zinfandel”, you purr, keeping your hold of seduction over him.  

You didn’t like that you had to do it, but self-preservation always won out in the end.

You keep calm, thankful that your tricks would save you from a painful explanation.

Your heart drops to the floor when you see him flare his nostrils, breathing the hearty scent of your drink in. You watch in panic as the fog leaves his eyes and he refocuses his attention.

“ **Is-is that blood?** ” he asks in a careful tone, aware of how crazy he sounds.

Stunned that he was able to break off your spell, you surprise yourself when you answer with a simple, “ **Yes.** ”

The silence is deafening as you wait for his response.

He remains seated, his expression not giving anything away. He runs a hand through his hair, tangling it even worse than previously. “ **Alright, follow up question.** ”

You give him a skeptical look, confused as to why he wasn’t freaking out, running away from you and calling you a monster.

“I’ll allow it.”

Steve’s lips break into a small smile, amusement taking over his expression. “ **Why are you drinking it?** ”

You stare at Steve in utter disbelief, shocked at how this was happening. Was he for real?

“Well, naturally my first thought is that you are a vampire which would explain a lot,” he continues, moving to untangle himself from all of the blankets and setting his now empty mug on the table.

You gape at him, words finally finding their way back to you. “What do you mean, that it ‘would explain a lot?’” you demand, slamming your cup on the coffee table in front of you, the table groaning in protest at your forceful action. You couldn’t think of one instance where you could have given anything away.

Steve holds up his hands in surrender, “Hey, it’s okay. The only reason why I noticed is because I look.”

You grip at your roots and shake your head, “Steve, if you noticed something, I need you to tell me so I can make sure no one else will ever know.”

You meet his blue eyes, your own watering. Your heart is hammering heavily in your chest, anxiety filling you.

“You don’t understand,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut, tucking your chin in. “If word gets out about what I am, people will come for me.”

You release your grip on your hair and wrap your arms around your waist and squeeze.

“Even you knowing could be the end of me,” you breathe, the words like a whisper in the wind.

You feel warm hands cup your cheeks and your eyes pop open in surprise, quick to meet untroubled blue. “Hey, Y/N, just breathe,” Steve instructs. His gaze feels heavy on you. He slows his breathing, exaggerating, coaching you to follow along.

It takes a moment before you are able to focus, your eyes watching his lips as he inhales…and exhales. Inhales. Exhales.

A few passes of this and you feel the panic leave. In the midst of this, you realize that he hasn’t left. He hasn’t called you a monster. He hasn’t shown any fear.

You pry your gaze from his lips to meet his sapphire eyes. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

“Do I have reason to be?”,

His response stuns you into silence once again and you wonder if the surprises will ever cease.

Your eyes search his for any signs of deception.

There was nothing but awe, adoration and…love.

You press forward so your lips are only a hair-breaths away and pause, giving him the chance to pull away.

He doesn’t hesitate to meet the rest of the way, pressing just the briefest of kisses to your lips.

Your eyes meet for a brief second before you grip the back of his neck and pull him back to you in a passionate kiss.

As your lips move in sync, you can feel it build up in your bellow, bubbling over.

You had kissed people before but never had it felt so, for a lack of a better word, magical.

Steve is the one to pull away, both of you panting. He leans forward and presses his forehead against your, his thumb brushing affectionately over your cheek.

“I wish we had done that a long time ago,” he murmured, a smirk dancing across his lips.

You smack the back of your hand against his chest and scoff, “Way to ruin the moment!”

Steve lets out a loud laugh and picks you up easily and sits down in your spot before settling you back into his lap. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck. “Here I thought I was being cute and romantic.”

You both settle into your spots, feeling more relaxed than ever.

“You know, I still have questions.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback! I live off of that!
> 
> You can find this originally posted on Tumblr @ds-akita-d


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